


Freedom's Cost

by Kumikoko



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, Male Sascha, Religious Content, Religious Setting, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoko/pseuds/Kumikoko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Shinigami has a reason for suicide. </p><p>This is Sascha's reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom's Cost

**Author's Note:**

> I finally caught up with Kuroshitsuji last night and Sascha is super cute, whether female or male. I liked him/her instantly. My first thought was girl, but after the one guy says "he," I have enough validated reason to write this fanfic as Sascha as a male. 
> 
> Personally, Sascha is a only girl's name to me, but, well, I'm going with the flow here. 
> 
> I had this idea while reading the manga and came to find another user beat me to it, which is fine. Honestly? Her fic is better then mine so go read hers too. 
> 
> Sascha is eighteen for the fanfic. 
> 
> Now, this fanfic is just that, a fanfic. I do not own any of the characters...well, I mean, Father Roan and the mother and father are random characters but yeah. 
> 
> I had to debate for awhile on the setting I wanted and finally went with the whole church thing cuz I read how the whole rape and molestation in churches, at those times, were not widely known about, let alone punished. A lot of bishops even protected the priests. ): 
> 
> Oh, I know Sascha sounds very child-like in the fanfic and I do apologize for that. 
> 
> The Bible Sascha reads later on in the fic was altered to fit this fictional story, and fictional church.

**Freedom's Cost**

Mannheim, City of Squares, located in the Baden-Württemberg state of Germany, near the Neckar and Rhine river during the late eighteen hundreds lived a young, effeminate boy named Sascha. The third largest town with equally large houses had broad streets angled to the right of each other was a place he knew little of, despite having spent fifteen years of his life here.

Growing up as a catholic boy in a poor family gave him little knowledge to the world around him. The grid shaped town held many mysteries for him, from the Rhine harbor to the theater, a building he had never ventured in. The observatory, the chateau filled with a gallery of pictures were among more buildings he knew not of what laid inside them.

What he did know was that Mannheim was a factory district, that doubled as a market center for exports down the Rhine river. Mannheim was part of southwestern Germany, after all. He knew of the Kaiser, and the Grand Duke. He knew of the German and Mannheim flag. He even knew the song sung in school by heart.

There wasn’t much else he knew, though.

Father was a working man, spending long hours at the factory, only to come home, eat supper, and sleep. Mother spent all day in the kitchen, laboring over what they would eat, and, if she wasn’t in the kitchen, it was a trip to the market. Both of them were very unavailable to Sascha in different ways. They certainly never had time to answer any of his questions.

What was the furry thing that walked on four legs? What were the white puffy things in the sky called? Why were his clothes a mess? Why did the other children make fun of him? Why couldn’t he talk to girls? Why did some people like food? It was so bland and tasteless…

The amount of questions that ran through his brain never ceased. It was obvious to him, even at a young age, he wasn’t quite as informed as the other children. If one of his questions were answered, it was usually by a fellow student, speaking in a sarcastic manner.

How can you not know the puffy white things in the sky are called clouds?

Didn’t your parents teach you that girls have cooties?

You don’t know what rain is?

For the better part of his life, he couldn’t read, nor write. His parents had never had time nor patience to teach him. What had they taught him? Not much. Sascha supposed it couldn’t be helped, though. Mother didn’t want to connect with him, for she was positive he would die soon, just like the others had. She had had a few too many losses that she was convinced he wouldn’t be with her long.

He was still here though, and at fifteen, he had a good chance of surviving now that the hardest of times were over. It was just a matter of getting through the catholic school now.

Public school was too far for him to attend, which, according to his parents, was well enough for they preferred him to attend the catholic school. Sascha learned a lot of God and Mary, and even about the afterlife. He knew more of religion then the world around him. He sought to know more, just to be on par with everyone else.

One warm afternoon, just after Sunday church had let out, Sascha went to Father Roan. Father Roan had been a priest for over thirty years, and was, if Sascha had to guess, in his late forty’s. He was one of the major authority figures within the church, and with his age, he had to know a thing or two about life.

“Father Roan? May I ask you some questions?” Sascha asked as he approached the man.

“Questions? Are you seeking knowledge, little one?” Father Roan asked, raising a worried eyebrow at him.

“Yes, Father. I just—“ Sascha started, but Father Roan interrupted him quickly.

“That’s how it starts,” Father Roan said, with a grim expression befalling his face.

“How what starts?” Sascha inquired, beginning to realize this might have been a mistake.

“Eternal damnation.” Father Roan answered for the young teenager.

“What?” Sascha took a step back at the thought of questions leading to damnation.

“You do remember how Eve took a bite of the apple of knowledge?” Father Roan reminded Sascha, who started to deflate. “To seek knowledge out is to take a bite from the forbidden apple.” Father Roan explained, as a warning.

Sascha began to shift nervously on his feet.

“If…if knowledge is bad…why are children brought to school?” Sascha couldn’t help but to ask.

“The Devil is leading them astray. Fear not, you’re in good hands here, in the house of Mary. Learn of Mary and you will have a place in Heaven.” Father Roan explained, to remind Sascha of his place in the world.

“O-okay…” Sascha muttered awkwardly, unsure of how to process this information. Were the public school children really biting from the forbidden apple? Come to think of it, Father, nor Mother ever really went to school, did they? They learned from the church, and worked for a living, without bringing knowledge into the home.

Maybe Father Roan was right, but…Sascha didn’t like how little he knew in comparison to the other children. Was it really wrong to want to know how the world worked? Sascha started for the double doors with conflicted feelings in his heart.

“Oh, Sascha? There are things I can teach you if you want to learn.” Father Roan spoke up, with a devious smile tugging at his face. Sascha paused in his steps.

“Really?” Sascha turned around, his large eyes sparkling with hope.

“The confession tower awaits,” Father Roan said and gestured to the stairs. Sascha stared at the steps. The last time he had climbed up the steps, he had stolen a loaf of fresh bread from the market. He had been told stealing led to damnation. Since then, he hadn’t stolen, nor did he have the intent to.

It wasn’t just the thought of eternal damnation that kept Sascha from stealing again, though, it was the whipping he had received, not just from Father Roan, but from his mother later that day. She had raised him better, after all. That was also the day he learned what rulers and wooden spoons were. He could have lived without that knowledge.

Now, however, he hadn’t done anything wrong, so he had nothing to fear, climbing the stairs of the winding tower, with Father Roan leading the way. The tower was a quiet place, where few ventured. For however long Father Roan was willing to answer Sascha’s questions, they would probably be left undisturbed.

Most confessions happened either early in the morning or late at night, for some couldn’t sleep with what they had done.

Once inside of the round tower, Sascha sat on the couch, and set his hands on his lap. Father Roan sat in the arm chair across from him.

“You are a curious one, are you not?” Father Roan spoke first.

“Yes, but I wish not to learn evil.” Sascha replied, wanting the priest to know he had no intentions of following a dark path in life.

“To learn anything not God, or of his way is evil. If you have come to learn of the numbers, or the skies, you best confess and repent, or your soul may suffer.” Father Roan stated. Sascha shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Did…did the Devil create the skies?” Sascha asked, peering up at the older man timidly.

“No. The skies are of the Heavens above.” Father Roan clarified for the pupil.

“Than…why would it be wrong to learn of the skies if God created it?” Sascha inquired, twisting his hands hesitantly.

“Knowledge belongs to the Devil himself, that is why.” Father Roan explained, as he stood up. “And you…are playing right into his clawed hands.” Sascha shrunk against the back of the couch upon hearing the Father’s words. He didn’t want to play into the Devil’s hands!

He just…he just…

“There is but one way to force the Devil out of you and cleanse your soul.” Father Roan announced, as he towered over the frightened teen.

“Wh-what way is that, Father?” Sascha asked, ready to hang on the holy man’s words.

“You shall be of use to me.” Father Roan said, and sat back down on the chair.

“How so?” Sascha stood up, wanting to make things right again. He really hadn’t meant any harm all those times he simply wanted to learn.

“Sit on my lap.” Father Roan replied. Sascha hesitated. “Go on.” Father Roan gestured to his lap. Sascha stiffly stepped forwards and tentatively sat down.

It felt so awkward, sitting on a man’s lap.

“Now…tell me if this feels good, for if it does, we have to cast the Devil out before he completely takes hold of you.” Father Roan explained as he slid his hand under Sascha’s black trousers. Sascha jerked as the large hand gripped his penis.

“Tha—“ Sascha gasped with confused horror as the hand started to make quick stroking motions, that sent tingles of pleasure throughout the hormonally imbalanced teen.

“Ah, just as I thought. Your soul is dirty,” Father Roan mused as he shamelessly continued to fondle the boy. Sascha’s mouth hung open with shock. Some part of him knew this was wrong, but with the given context, was it still wrong?

He just…he didn’t know!

“What is happening?” Sascha finally blurted out, as he began to shift his legs together nervously.

“The vile one is gathering here, where he will be released. You feel him, don’t you, that hardness?” Father Roan said, as he stroked the swelling cock faster. Sascha turned green at the thought of the Devil being inside of him. He was too naïve to know that what his body was experiencing was normal.

“Please help me, Father, please,” Sascha cried, mixed feelings of fear and pleasure building inside of him. To touch oneself was a sin. Sascha knew that well. He wasn’t the one touching himself, though, Father Roan was, and with good reason, right? A man of the church couldn’t be bad.

“That’s it, Sascha. Beg for forgiveness.” Father Roan encouraged the impressionable dark haired kid. “I’m…I’m sorry…I just…I just wanted to learn…” Sascha blubbered through his tears. He wanted to be a good little boy again.

Father Roan’s thumb flicked over the tip of the penis and rubbed it diligently. All of a sudden, Sascha’s petite body tensed up. His eyes squeezed shut, and a long noise left his mouth.

“Oh, this is worse than I thought.” Father Roan said gravely, ruining Sascha’s high. “Wh-what?” Sascha forced out of his mouth, while his body trembled. “He’s fleeting back into your body. I will have to try another method.” Father Roan pulled his dry hand out of the pants. “Stand up.” Father Roan instructed the panicked boy.

“H-he’s not gone?” Sascha asked as he stood up, quivering. “Relax. I know what to do.” Father Roan assured Sascha, and began pulling at the dark cloths. Sascha squirmed nervously as his clothes were pulled from him. He didn’t like any of this, but Father Roan was a man of the church. He wouldn’t hurt him.

Sascha was left naked in moments.

“Now, just remember. If what I do to you hurts, that’s because the Devil is fighting to keep hold of you. When the pain stops, he will have been forced out.” Father Roan explained to the ignorant teen, as he turned him around.

“P-pain?” Sascha choked out, terrified at the thought of feeling pain. “Yes. I need you to bend over, and know what I am going to do to you is for your benefit.” Father Roan said, and pushed Sascha against the couch. Sascha was made to curl his legs underneath him, and rest most of his weight on his elbows. “J-just like this?” Sascha asked, having been guided into the position, by someone he trusted.

“Yes. Your head must be down, and your bottom skywards. If we have luck, he will come out of your mouth so scream big.” Father Roan stated, and pulled his own dick from his black trousers. He began to pump himself as he stared at Sascha’s round ass.

Surely the naïve child was a virgin. Father Roan’s blood boiled with excitement at the thought of how tight Sascha would be. He was such a pretty teenager, and so stupid. So stupid. He could manipulate Sascha into being a good little slut.

Father Roan began to rub his cock against the puckered hole. Sascha made a startled noise. “Relax,” Father Roan reminded Sascha, just before pushing against the hole.

“Th-that hurts,” Sascha cried as a painful pressure started to assault his body. “That means he is in you. I must force him out.” Father Roan said, and forced himself into the lithe body. “Ow!” Sascha howled with pain.

The bludgeon was being driven further into the virgin. Sascha knew Father Roan said the ordeal would only hurt if the Devil was inside of him, but that knowledge alone couldn’t make him compliant. Sascha started to resist the priest.

“S-stop it! It hurts!” Sascha cried, as he tried to escape Father Roan’s grip. “I can’t save your soul if you resist,” Father Roan said, but Sascha wasn’t listening anymore. All Sascha knew was that the pain was only worsening, and pain wasn’t something he wanted. Sascha had suffered enough agony when other children would beat him up, for whatever reason at the time.

“It will be over soon,” Father Roan tried to assure Sascha, and plunged deeper into him. “No!” Sascha yelled, trying desperately to free himself. Father Roan held Sascha in place, and reveled in the tightness of a fifteen year old boy.

“I…I don’t want this!” Sascha sobbed, feeling as if he would be split in half, by the large, fleshy tool, wedged deep inside of him. “That’s the Devil taking, Sascha, that’s him fighting to stay in you.” Father Roan said, and pulled out of Sascha just enough to thrust back in. “No!” Sascha whined with protest.

Ignorant or not, Sascha knew there was something wrong with this.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Sascha repeated over and over, as the man he once trusted forced his way into him again.

Sascha’s body was thrust forward with each cruel plunge. The smacking noise of flesh against flesh sounded in their ears, coupled with a sloppy wet noise as blood was squished against the skin. Father Roan’s grunts of pleasure were drowned out by Sascha’s cries of pain.

Father Roan released his seed into the unwilling boy. Once the pleasure high left his body, the man pulled away from Sascha, who curled up on the couch, a trembling, crying mess.

“Does your body still hurt?” Father Roan asked. Sascha shook his head fervently, wrapping his arms around himself. “Don’t lie, Sascha. If the Devil is still in you, I will have to eradicate it again, tomorrow. Do come.” Father Roan said and handed Sascha the clothes from the ground. Sascha snatched the clothes and hurriedly pulled them on, without a word.

Devil or not, Sascha didn’t want to go through that again. Father Roan pat Sascha on the head before leaving, down the steps. Sascha stood up carefully, using the couch as support. His stiff legs were shaky. Each step brought pain to his body. He pressed on towards the door, falling only once.

The distraught, confused teen went straight home, an awkward limp in his gait. Sascha opened the door to his house and headed straight for the bathroom. Mother was in the kitchen, where he had expected her to be, so it was easy to slip right past her. Once the bathroom door was shut, Sascha pulled his pants down and pressed a cloth to his hole that burned. When he pulled it away, there was blood on it.

A sharp breath was taken in.

_Remain calm…_

_I’m okay…_

_It was…normal_ …

“Mother!” Sascha cried out, unable to help himself. He may be a teenager, practically a man, but he felt overwhelmed by all of this.

After a moment, the dark haired woman peered into the bathroom.

“What is it? I’m cooking.” She said impatiently. Sascha held the cloth out to her and started to blubber. “I—I spoke to Father Roan today and he said that I have the D-Devil inside of me and the only way he could free me was if he—if he—“ Sascha’s voice started to break as he tried to confess to her what had happened to him. “He put something warm and hard into me, and drove it in again and again…but he made me bleed.” Sascha sobbed, needing his mother now more than ever before.

The woman was quiet for a few minutes as she observed Sascha’s behavior and considered the situation. Since they were living on church grounds, as they couldn’t afford an actual home, to accuse a priest of rape would be outrageously stupid of them. They would be kicked out and sent onto the streets. Hell, the church provided their breakfast too. There was no way they could accuse the man of this.

“Sascha, you owe him that much for him letting us have shelter, and a free breakfast each morning.” The woman said as gently, but firmly as she could. Sascha’s mouth dropped with shock at her words. She knelt down in front of him and set a hand on his shoulder. “We owe him a lot, and if he wants to…touch you in certain ways, I suggest you let him. Now, be a good boy and be quiet about this.” She instructed him and stood up. Sascha watched her turn her back on him.

In that one moment, Sascha felt his heart break. How could she not see that this was a problem?

Sascha cried.

**. . .**

In the morning, Sascha wasn’t anywhere to be found, for he had left to the church library. In the library, Sascha was huddled in the back, against a bookshelf, to hide away from the world. On his lap was a Bible specific to the church, that he was scanning feverously. There were so many words he didn’t recognize, and even more he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but when he found what he was looking for, his world stopped. 

The first thing he confirmed was that masturbation was a sin. Sascha knew he hadn’t masturbated himself, but Father Roan had touched him. A sin had been committed, and what was worse was that Sascha had just let it happen. The next thing Sascha confirmed was that sodomy was a penis penetrating a butthole. That was one of the worst sins that could be committed. The most startling thing to his young mind was that sometimes, demons posed as holy figures.

Father Roan flashed through Sascha’s mind. Sascha puked.

Whoever that man was, he wasn’t no holy figure to participate in sodomy. It was also a black mark on Sascha because he had, at least at first, just let it happen. At least, Sascha thought that. He didn’t realize that he had been a victim, nor did he realize he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

“Sascha!” Sascha snapped upright at hearing his mother’s voice.

“M-mother?” Sascha asked, looking up at her.

“You skipped the first half of school and left Father Roan waiting.” She said, as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his feet.

“I don’t want to see him!” Sascha yelled as he dug his heels against the carpet.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to in life, Sascha. It’s better you learn this the hard way now while you’re young.” She said, and dragged him out of the library.

“Mother, I really don’t want to! He’s—he’s a demon in a mansuit!” Sascha shouted, desperate to get through to her.

No matter what Sascha said, he was dragged to the tower of confession.

“You are going to go in there and let him do what he wants to you, for this family.” She said firmly, before pushing him into the room, and shut the door.

“Sascha, it Is good of you to show. I will eradicate the Devil from you today for sure.” Father Roan said as he advanced on Sascha. Sascha shook his head. “I—I don’t—it hurt. Please don’t…” Sascha trembled as he backed away from him, until his back found the door.

He didn’t want this.

Father Roan grabbed Sascha and threw him onto the couch.

“NO!” Sascha didn’t care anymore that Father Roan was an authorative figure in the church, he was going to fight for his soul, starting by fighting Father Roan off of him.

Father Roan wasn’t going to take no as an answer, though. He forced Sascha down and violently raped him. Once the priest was finished, he let Sascha go.

“I hear three times is the charm, Sascha. You will be here tomorrow, won’t you?” Father Roan said as Sascha retreated with haste. Sascha paused in his steps.

Tomorrow?

Little did anyone know, tomorrow wouldn’t come for Sascha. To save himself, to free himself, he hung himself later that night. The sheer terror of being raped and damned to hell from unwanted sodomy was too much for the teen to have bared. 

The Shingami that arrived to take his soul was an stiff, uptight man, well dressed. He had short, black hair and wore glasses.

“Who are you?” Sascha asked.

“My name is Rudger, and you are one Sascha…damned to purgatory like the rest of us dumb fools.” Rudger said, his bored voice dull. Sascha blinked as he tried to process the new information. One look at his body hanging limp told Sascha what he needed to know.

He was free. That man couldn’t touch him again. Actually, no one could hurt him now.

“I’m…dead.” Sascha said, tripping on that though. “Yes, you will be collecting souls of fellow people that have committed suicide, but you’ll learn more at the academy.” Rudger informed him.

“An academy?” Sascha asked. “Yes. You’ll learn how to be a proper Shinigami.” Rudger said as he guided Sascha into the skies above. “A Shinigami? Will I get to travel the world?” Sascha inquired, since he would visit people that had been desperate like him.

“Just Germany.” Rudger shrugged.

“Whoa…” Sascha thought to the life he could lead now.

He could learn, and travel, and since he was already in purgatory, what was the harm in that?

For the first time in Sascha’s life, he felt free, and happy. From now on, he would be the version of himself he had wanted to be on Earth, but had been unable to.

“You’re oddly happy for having just committed suicide,” Rudger commented, as Sascha looked around the world with curious eyes. “You’re right, I wasn’t happy a few minutes ago but now…I’m free.”

Sascha smiled innocently.

 


End file.
